Under the Weather
by NerdAngel
Summary: People are literally dropping dead with no signs on what is causing it. Dean is trying to distract himself from the Mark and Sam is being forced to stay home due to a nasty cold. (Takes place after "The Hunter Games" 10x10).
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: I would like to thank anyone who reads, reviews, follows, and/or favorites this story, any others, and/or me as a writer.**

 **SPOILER ALERT: this takes place after "The Hunter Games" 10x10.**

 **Thank you miXiZ and LilyBolt for your constant support and friendship.**

 **I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters**

Chapter 1

Blood. So much blood. Everywhere. Bodies. So many bodies spread throughout the room. His green eyes moved to search the different faces. They hadn't been monsters. Not in the sense of them being the creatures that Dean normally hunted, but they hadn't exactly been good innocent men either. However no matter how bad a person may be, the Winchesters did their damnedest not to take another human's life. After all, a human was a human, no matter how bad. That's not to say they hadn't had to end a few here and there before, but they avoided it at all costs. Normally. But Dean wasn't exactly "normal." Not anymore. His eyes swept over the motionless bloodied empty bodies that littered the room, then glided over to the crimson drenched blade that he clutched in his hands. It wasn't the First Blade, it hadn't needed to be. In fact, he feared what picture he would have painted had it been. The Mark was bad enough, even as it sat on his arm, but you add the First Blade and it's like a key to a lock. Behind that lock was an unspeakable evil that overthrew any of Dean's self control in both mind and body. More than likely, the men would have been unrecognizable. Not that he had known them to begin with. One had claimed himself "a father figure" while the other had tried to take advantage of Casitel's vessel's daughter Claire. The others, nameless. Henchman number whatever.

"Dean." Dean didn't want to look up. He didn't want to see the elicit look that he would surely be faced with."Dean, hey." He felt Sam's giant form drop to his knees to match him. He grabbed Dean's head in his hands and forced him to look into those hazel doe eyes the older brother had tried to avoid. The younger of the two gave him a look of pure...what was it? Terror? Shock? Disbelief? Disgust? Disappointment? All of the above? "Tell me you had to do this?" It wasn't a request, it was a plea. A plea that his big brother hadn't just completely slaughtered a house full of men for no reason other than because he lost control of himself. Dean's eyes fluttered and bounced like a child who knew they had done something wrong. His gaze shifted between trying to look Sam in the eyes and studying the floor where he was kneeling.

"I didn't, I didn't mean to," he mumbled, finally losing the battle of holding his little brother's gaze. Sam shook his head, his attention never wavering from the man before him.

"No. Tell me it was them, or-"

An unpleasant sound woke Dean from his dream. Only it hadn't actually been a dream. It had been more of a memory. A memory of the night that things took a turn for the worse. A night not so long ago where he learned just how much control the Mark of Cain truly had over him. He catapulted from his bed, his black t-shirt damp from sweat. His sweats matching in moisture. Dean sat wiping his forehead on his arm, his breath coming in short pants. Then the sound that had disturbed his sleep the first time, sounded again. Dean was grateful for the interruption, but that was short lived when he became conscious of what it was that had caused him to wake. He quickly flung back his bed covers and padded off out of his room and through the hall. The sound of his bare feet slapping against the cold hard floor was only scarcely heard over the ruckus that echoed through the building. The bunker was freezing, which wasn't exactly surprising being that they were nearing the beginning of winter and it had been raining for three days straight. Goosebumps started to prickle Dean's arms as cold sweat met even colder air, but he ignored it.  
The older Winchester stopped only briefly in front of a door to his left before barging in, causing Sam to jump and his attention to shoot towards the sudden intrusion.

"Dean-"He started but before he could finish he exploded into another coughing fit. The younger brother quickly turned so that he could cough into the bend of his arm. His whole body shook and shot forward with every outburst. Dean studied Sam, not moving from his spot at the doorway. Finally the coughs subsided and Sam pulled his arm away. His eyes moved to meet Dean's, his mouth slightly agape so that he could breath. Now that his brother wasn't shielding his face, he could see everything. The bags around Sam's eyes looked as though he hadn't slept in months and the hazel color that usually shined, looked dull. His skin was a considerable few shades paler, giving him a piqued tone that would give Dracula a run for his money. He sniffed and tried to clear his throat, only revving up more mucus deep within.

"You sick?" Dean nodded in his brother's direction. Although he said it with an upwards tone as though it were, it wasn't really meant to be a question for the younger man. It had been more along the lines of him letting his brother know he was aware and therefore, no point in lying about it.

"What?" Sam asked in a raspy voice "no." Dean crossed his arms over his chest giving his little brother a stern stare.

"You wanna try that again?"

"I'm not...I'm fine," Sam promised.

"Really? You look dead, you got your uh, 'sexy voice' going, and I was woken up by a sickly explosion that went off in YOUR room. Not to mention the mucus on mucus action you got going on."

"Dean-" A loud vibration echoed in the room interrupting them. Both brothers turned to look at Sam's phone as it crawled around the nightstand with every vibration it emulated. The younger Winchester's eyes flicked back to his brother momentarily then picked it up. "Rudy, hey," he greeted.

"Oh man Sam, you sound terrible. You sick or something?"

"No, I'm good," he lied as he tried to clear his throat again, his gaze steering clear of his brother's.

"Maybe I should call and talk to Dean about this instead," the hunter said wearily.

"I'm fine. What is it?" Sam pried, his voice alternating between raspy and nasally depending on his pitch. It was silent for a few seconds longer, as if the man was debating hanging up and calling the older Winchester.

"A buddy of mine says there's something weird going on at Ulumay Wildlife Sanctuary in Merritt Island Florida. Folks are showing up dead. No blood, no stab wounds, no bullet holes, no broken bones, all in good health. Most of the victims were young things, like teens and early to mid twenties. I think there were two guys in their thirties."

"Yeah, that's not normal," the younger Winchester agreed.

"I would check it out, but I'm working a ghoul case in Ohio so..."

"Yeah no, we'll check it out."

"I'll send you the location and any other bits I got that can help you."

"Thanks Rudy."

"Yeah no problem. Listen, Sam, maybe you should let Dean get this one. You sound awful."

"Thanks, I'm good." With that he hung up the phone and turned to face his brother.

"People are dropping dead with no signs as to why. No wounds or blood, all of them healthy."

"Sounds like it could be down our alley," Dean said nodding his head.

"Rudy's texting me the location."

"Good. Well, once you get it, send it to me and I'll go have a look," Dean said.

"You mean WE'LL go have a look. I'm coming with you Dean," the younger man corrected.

"Nice try brother, but your ass is staying put."

"The hell I am," he countered. His brow furrowed, his jaw clenched, and his gaze steady. Dean could sense a "Sammy bitchface" in his future.

"Sam we aren't playing this game ok? You're sick, it's been raining for days, and you're NOT going anywhere."

"I'm FINE." Dean fixed his brother with a serious stare then moved from his spot at the doorway over to him. Dean raised his hand, cupped it slightly, and put it to Sam's forehead. He hadn't been able to keep it on long before the younger brother pulled his head away, but he hadn't needed to.

"Dean stop."

"You're burning up. The only thing you'll be doing is laying in bed resting. No hunting, no leaving the bunker, do not pass go, do not collect $200."

"Dean," Sam whined getting to his feet.

"It's just a little cold. I've hunted with worse, YOU'VE hunted with worse."

"Oh no no," Dean shook his head. "Don't even try to get out of this by bringing me into it. It doesn't matter what I've hunted with, you're staying in. I can't have you going on a hunt in the pouring rain sounding like a defective cat trying to purr."

"What?" Sam asked squinting at his brother.

"Don't think I can't hear you from here. You're jam packed full of mucus and snot," Dean replied. "What happens when you go into a coughing fit and the creature takes advantage of your disadvantage, huh? Or what if it gives us away on a stakeout? Or your fever gets so bad that you pass out? Or you get pneumonia?"

"This is bullshit Dean and you know it. You're acting like we've never hunted while being sick before," Sam growled defensively.

"You have a temperature," Dean shot back.

"Yeah? And? Just give me some pills and I'll be good," Sam said with a shrug.

"You're not going,"Dean repeated in a calm paternal tone. Sam ran his hands through his hair and turned away from his brother. "Sammy, I'm sorry, but it's just not going to happen. Not this time," Dean gave his little brother a fixed apologetic stare. Sam spun back around swaying slightly. Dean had been expecting a bitchface, but what he got was something more unnerving. Sam's dull eyes were burning into him, a question clearly sitting on his brain.

"Why?" His voice was barely more than a whisper and Dean had no doubt all this arguing was not helping his situation.

"What?" The older Winchester asked caught off guard.

"Why are you trying so hard to make me stay?" His eyes shifted from quizzical to suspicious.

"I told you-"

"No," the younger brother shook his head. "No, I don't buy that."

"Well sorry Sammy, I'm not selling, I'm telling. It will be safer if you just take time to sleep, eat some soup, maybe watch a little porn, and get better." Sam opened his mouth to retort, but another vibration interrupted him. He looked down at his newly lit up phone. The text message had read the address and listed a few names. No doubt they were the names of the victims. Dean looked over as if trying to read what was on the screen."What'd he say?" He asked. Sam didn't respond right away, just looked at the screen as if trying to memorize all the information. "Sam," Dean raised his voice, taking his brother's lack of an answer as a means to show his anger at being told he couldn't go.

"Merritt Island Florida," Sam mumbled "and a few names. Probably vics." Dean nodded.

"Alright, I'm going to go make you some grub, pack, and I'll be on my way." Sam opened his mouth to argue but Dean put his hand up and closed his eyes. "In the meantime," he started up again before he could be interrupted "you stay here, rest up, maybe do a bit of digging with those names, and let me know if you find anything. Text me the vics and the address." The brothers eyes met again and now Dean was finally faced with the bitchface he had been waiting for since the start of their dispute. When nothing else was said, though much was conveyed through glares and he could tell there was much that wanted to be said still, he turned around and left; closing his brooding brother's door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n; Thank you to anyone who reads, reviews, follows, and/or favorites.**

 **A special thank you to LilyBolt and miXiZ as always for your constant support and interest in my writing as well as your friendship.**

Ch 2

Ten minutes later, Dean returned to the Quarantine zone carrying a tray containing a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup, a glass of water, a box of Kleenex, and what appeared to be almost if not every bottle of medication in the bunker. He balanced it with his right hand and knee, while managing to open Sam's door with his left.

"Room service," he chimed as he approached the bed. Sam gave him an unamused glare as Dean placed the tray down so that his brother's covered legs were stuck where they were between the tray. "There you go. Some soup for the soul, liquids, snot rags or whatever you decide to use them for, and...well...this should take care of any of your medical needs." Dean looked around at each item on the tray. "Oh! Almost forgot." He snapped his fingers and left Sam's room, reappearing with the younger Winchester's laptop in hand. "There you go." He plopped the machine down on the other side of the bed and grinned. "That should take care of everything. Cas will be by as soon as he can to check up on you, make sure you don't need anything else. If you were planning on watching any porn, I'd do it before he gets here. Unless you want him to join," the older man teased with a chuckle at his own joke. The younger brother continued to stare daggers at his sibling. Dean looked over everything again then to Sam. "Ok, that settles that. I'll call and check up when I can. I need that address."

"Thirty two." His voice had been so low and raspy that had it not been quiet, Dean would have missed it.

"What?"

Sam swallowed and the older brother could see that that was no easy task for him. "I am thirty two damn years old," he replied his voice still dangerously low and shaky.

"Sam-"

"Stop treating me like I'm three Dean."

"You always were a drama queen when you were sick," Dean responded. "I'm tired of this tune Sammy, change it up."

"Maybe you wouldn't have to hear it if you just stopped," Sam countered. The brothers glared at each other, each trying to make the other back down and see reason. "Eat your soup before it gets cold. I'll call you when I'm in Florida, see you in a couple days," Dean said as he made his way back to the door.

"You're unbelievable," Sam growled, eyes still on his big brother.

"Take care Sammy."

The moment Dean turned down the street and the bunker was nowhere in sight, Dean let out a breath. It was getting harder and harder to put on a front for Sam. His little brother had brought it to his attention multiple times that he knew Dean better than anyone. The Mark was getting worse, he knew that and he knew that his brain of a little brother knew that too. However just because he knew, didn't mean Dean wanted Sam to be exposed to it. He hated that look that would inhabit his sibling's eyes when he looked at him. That look someone gives to their pet when they know that the only way they can help end their suffering, is by putting them down. It was a look he had been receiving more and more from his brother and now even his best friend was doing it. Dean couldn't be around that, he couldn't stand it. He was never one that should be looked down as a means of weakness or helplessness. Because the older Winchester was far from weak or helpless, he could take care of himself. Hell, he had been watching out for not only himself, but his baby brother since he was four and Sam just six months old. He was the one that watches over and protects. Dean normally loved the company of his brother, but things were changing. Sam could take care of himself, Dean knew that. He was smart and well trained and he has proven himself countless times, but it was best that Dean went alone. Especially with him being sick. Better to be bedridden for a couple days then a couple weeks, or worse. Bonus it keeps him out of harms way, and that included from Dean himself.

 _"You're unbelievable."_ Sam's last words to his sibling before he had closed his door.

"It's for your own good Sammy," Dean said to the empty passenger seat.

 **A/n: Sorry, I know this chapter is a little short. I hope it was still a good one.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: So it turns out I was able to find some time to write for this story! Sorry it's been awhile but after this week, things should be back to normal...hopefully. If anyone is following "If I Die Before I Wake," I'm sorry for the wait but I have started the next chapter for that one as well and hopefully I can get it posted by this month. If not this one, the beginning of the next for sure. I appreciate your patients.**

 **Thank you to all my readers, reviewers, and/ or followers as well any who favorite. Special thanks for the support and friendship of LilyBolt and miXiZ as well as all your time and thoughts.**

Ch 3

Dean had been far from in a good mood, and Dr. Day's dramatic history lesson on the government at the morgue was certainly not helping. Not even his bubbly young blonde Secretary with an exceptionally generous chest and flirtatious advances could sway Dean to lighten up.

He had arrived in Florida the previous night and slept only a solid two hours. For the first time in a long time, the Mark hadn't been the cause of sleep deprivation. At every gas station, restaurant, and rest stop, Dean had called his little brother just to have the phone ring until his voicemail picked up. The first two times he had managed to convince himself that Sam had been resting and hadn't heard his phone. He never had the damn thing off vibrate anyways. By the fifth call and the third rest stop, concern had started to eat away at Dean's mind. Maybe it would have been better to have waited for Cas to show up before he took off. Sam hadn't seemed like he was in too poor a shape before he had left, but maybe he had been wrong. It wasn't like his brother would let him see how bad his condition was if it had been terrible. Not that Dean couldn't tell anyways. In another life the younger Winchester would have made a great actor. He certainly was dramatic enough and he knew how to put on one hell of a show when he wasn't getting his way or wanted to get his point across. To make matters worse, the angel wasn't answering his phone either. With neither his sick little brother nor his best friend whom was suppose to be watching over said sibling responding to his calls, the doctor's constant babble about how he thought the government had gone to shit and how his grandfather had been an agent back when it was something to be proud of, was really grinding Dean's last nerve. He rubbed absently at his right forearm.

"Look Dr. Day's Of Our Lives," he snapped. "I really don't have time to stand here with my fingers up my ass and listen to you bitch about the bureau, nor do I care to." His harsh dismissive tone got the doctor to shut his mouth instantly. The bureau was probably going to be hearing from the old man later. "Just take me to the bodies." Dr. Day didn't say anything but motioned for Dean to follow him into the back, bringing him to stand at a table where the body of a young woman was laying.

A white sheet covering her breast down to her toes had been placed over her as was so often the case in a morgue. Her skin was passed pale and borderline white, except for her lips which had a tinge of blue to them.

"Shannon Turner. Age 22, healthy girl. Didn't smoke, hardly drank, never broke a bone or had a surgery in her entire life."

She looked completely fine for a dead girl. It was just like Sam had said, no wounds, no blood, no bullet holes, no vamp teeth marks, no heart or other organs missing, not even a scratch or a bruise could be found. Once Dean had examined her, he asked to see the other three victims. The doctor admitted that they only had one more. The other two had been buried about a week ago. He examined the other body and came to the same conclusion as he had with the first one.

"So this guy and that girl and the other two that are now worm food were all found at the wildlife sanctuary, right?" Dr. Day gave Dean a disapproving look at the indelicate way he referred to the now deceased.

"That's correct Agent."

"And no clue what the cause is?"

"You saw for yourself there was no sign of foul play or self harm, not even an accident."

"They just keeled over and died? It wasn't a heart attack?"

"Not in the sense you mean."

"Meaning?"

"Well there were no signs of one, but the effects may have been similar."

Dean peered over at the doctor with raised eyebrows.

"Does any of what you just said actually make any sense to you, at all?"

"Not a one. But between the sudden heart stop and the look on their faces-"

"What look?" Dean quickly cut the man off. Leave it to a non hunter to skip out on the important details.

"Well, all of them were found with a look of pure terror on their faces. Mouth open, eyes wide. We were able to get to these two in time before rigamortis set in, but the others...let's just say they had a closed casket funeral."

"So they were scared to death? That's possible?"

"Yes it's quite possible, you wouldn't believe the amount of people who die of fright, literally. However, I'm not sure that's what this is."

"So you really have no clue?" Dean questioned, irritation climbing into his voice once again. The older man shrugged and shook his head. With no other ideas himself and what little patience he had left slipping, he thanked the doctor and took off back to his Impala.

It had been raining buckets in Florida which only made Dean happier that Sam wasn't there with him. It may not have been a cold rain, but it didn't mean it couldn't make his situation worse. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and checked the screen, no messages. He thumbed his way through his contacts and called Sam.

Unlike all the previous calls, this one skipped over the ringing and jumped straight to voicemail followed by a machine informing him that the mailbox of the person he was trying to reach was full and was no longer taking any more messages. Dean hadn't been expecting his luck to miraculously change, but he also didn't think he could feel any more uneasy then he already did. He was wrong. He hung up and tried Cas. It rang and then went to what was supposedly voicemail. The angel had improved his understanding of how to work a phone over the years, but he still didn't quite get the hang of leaving a simple normal recording. Dean pressed end not wanting to leave the angel yet another message. He wasn't even sure Cas knew how to check them, but at least he would see that he had called and hopefully he would call him back.

Though the morgue was almost a complete waste of his time, Dean did manage to obtain some information at least that may come in handy. The address of the recently deceased girl. Hopefully he would have better luck there.

He arrived in front of a small house displaying gold numbers that matched the ones given to him by the doctor's Secretary. Trying to avoid getting drenched by the weather, he quickly dashed from his car, up the little pathway and onto the covered porch. Dean double checked his hidden pocket to make sure he had his fake ID, then knocked. A bark instantly sounded from inside making him gulp and take a cautious step back. A few seconds later, a woman appeared. Her blue eyes narrowed when she saw Dean and she struggled to keep a hold on the collar of a white German Shepherd who was trying anxiously to get to the intruder.

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Tanner?"

"What do you want with my sister now?"

"I'm Special Agent Seger," Dean replied flashing his badge. "I'm here to talk to her about her daughter Shannon." The woman rolled her eyes.

"I don't understand why the FBI is even interested in my niece's case. Surely you have more important things to stick your nose in. Besides we've already spoken with one of your men earlier, how many do you need to send?"

"Excuse me?" Dean asked caught off guard.

"Just leave my family alone." Before he could get another word out, the dog was pulled back and the door slammed in his face. There shouldn't have been any more "agents." Unless the actual FBI had made an appearance or Rudy had shared the case info with someone else. The possibility that there was another hunter was far more likely then the real deal bureau following up on the case. Maybe Rudy hadn't sent them and they had just caught a whiff on their own. It's not like he and his brother were the only two hunters in the world, although at times it felt like it. After being blamed for opening the Gates of Hell and jump starting the apocalypse a few years back, not to mention news getting out about Sam's psychic powers what seemed like forever ago now, the Winchesters weren't on many other hunter's go to list.

Dean left the victim's house and returned to the motel he was staying at. The day had been a bust with no new leads and no questions answered, only added. A headache had started to nag at him and his mood had decreased even more by the time he had called it quits for the night.

As he climbed the stairs up to his room, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He could feel his heartbeat pick up with every step and his forearm began to send out that burning itch he had become all too accustom to. Dean slid his hand to his right side, gave himself a mental countdown, then whipped his handgun from the waistband of his slacks. He spun around completely so that he was facing the threat, and aimed it at his follower.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: Thank you to all who read, review, follow, or favorite. LilyBolt and miXiZ, you ttwo are the best. Thank you for the love and support.**

 **Language warning**

Ch 4

"Whoa whoa hey, relax." His shadow quickly put his hands up in surrender. Dean lowered his weapon but his intense stare stayed on his company. Just as he tucked his gun away, a guitar riff sounded from his pocket. He pulled it out, read the ID, accepted the call, and put the phone to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Dean! I can't find him! He's nowhere to be found in the bunker, Sam's gone!" Dean's eyes met with Sam's and locked on with an angry stare.

"Yeah Cas, I know, Thanks." He ended the call and continued to glower up at him. "Come on," he said jerking his head in the direction of his room. Once they were both inside and out of the pouring rain and sight of others, he slammed the door and whirled on his brother.

"What the fuck are you doing here Sam?!" He exploded.

"Dean-" Sam's voice sounded even more congested than it had when he had left him a day ago.

"Oh no, don't 'Dean' me and don't even start with the puppy eyes bullshit either. I have been calling you for almost a day now!"

"I know-"

"You know? So what, you couldn't be bothered to answer your damn phone and give me some peace of mind?!"

"I was driving Dean."

"So?! It's not like you don't talk and drive all the time. In case it escaped that stuffed up brain of yours, you're sick."

"I know, but-"

"Running around in the rain with a cold, no matter how minor it may be, is beyond stupid. You're smarter than this Sam."

"Yeah, you're right, I am smarter," he agreed. "I know why you didn't want me to come with you, and it's not just because I'm sick." Sam gave his brother a stern knowing look.

"What?"

"It's the Mark," his eyes softened as he approached the sensitive subject. "You're afraid you're going to have another incident where you lose yourself to it and kill again."

"Sam-"

"I know you've been trying to keep me at bay because you're afraid of what you might do to me, but I won't leave you to try and tackle this alone. You can rant and rave and huff and puff all you want, but I'm not leaving Dean."

"Why do you have to be such a stubborn jackass?" Dean scoffed.

"I learned from the best," Sam gave a sad attempt of a smile just before a mucus filled cough crept from him. He tried at first to keep it low and quiet, but it quickly grew in volume and strength. "I'm fine," Sam said feeling his brother's eyes burning into him.

"You're really not," Dean replied shaking his head in response.

"Look, it's been a long day for both of us ok. Why don't we just take the night to rest a bit?" Sam suggested.

"How did you get here so fast?" The older man asked ignoring his brother.

"I rode here on a unicorn." Dean's glare hardened. "I drove," the younger brother admitted.

"You drove?! How long have you been here?"

"Since this morning," Sam mumbled.

"This morning?! You couldn't have called then?!"

"I was interviewing the victim's mother," he explained.

Of course, the "other agent." Dean glared at his brother and then shook his head as he began to pace. His hand sliding from his head and scrubbing his face.

"Dean, come on, just-sit down and relax. You yelling and pacing the room isn't going to make me go away." The older brother stopped, but refused to sit down.

"You don't get how serious this is do you?"

"Of course I do, but-"

"No you don't, because if you did you would have fucking listened to me in the first God damn place!" Sam furrowed his brow slightly and then walked over to his older brother so that he was standing right in front of him. Gently he placed his hands on his brother's shoulders and steered him backwards until his heel hit the bed. With a bit more of a force, but not a harsh move, he shoved his brother down so that he was sitting on the mattress. Sam removed his hands from Dean's shoulders than sat himself to his brother's left, trying to hide his fatigue .

"Relax Dean," he said calmly. "Just take a few deep breaths." They sat listening to the sound of the rain hitting the window while Dean collected himself. Once Sam was convinced his brother had calmed down a bit he rose to his feet, shaking slightly and hoping it had gone unnoticed. "Good, alright, I'll go get us something to eat." Immediately, Dean was on his feet with his hand out to block his brother.

"Oh no no no. You aren't going anywhere but into bed," he instructed.

"D-"

"Bed or home, your choice." The weather was far too dangerous for Sam to go home, and Dean wouldn't have allowed that until it cleared up, but he also knew that his brother would get the hint. The younger man's shoulders sagged as he sighed and rolled his eyes dragging himself over to the second bed. "I can't say this any more plain, if I get back and you aren't either in bed or in the bathroom, I will call Cas to come get your ass and drag you back to the Bunker. Got it?" Sam sighed in response. Dean gave him one last glance, then disappeared.

When he returned to the room, he found his brother laying on his stomach under the covers, his left arm hanging over the mattress while his right was to his side. His mouth was open allowing loud breaths to escape him. Normally Dean would tease him about it, but he knew that this time it was him trying to breath from all the congestion. He set the plastic bags on the little table and pulled out one of the little to go soups he had bought. He slipped it into the microwave then returned to empty out the rest of the bag. Once the soup was done, he retrieved it, grabbed a bottle of water and quietly made his way over to his brother. He set down the food and drink on the nightstand and gently nudged him.

"Sam...Sammy, hey." Sam's eyes cracked open and he squinted over at Dean. "Sorry to wake you, but it's grub time." Sam rubbed his eyes, rolled onto his side, and slowly lifted himself into sitting position. Dean picked up the soup and held it out to his brother. "Water's right there and," he got up to grab the large bottle of Nyquil he had purchased. "Candy after you eat. Should help knock you out. Plus its grape flavored, just like you like it." A small smile spread across the younger brother's face. "Got you some for the day time too." He placed the medicine next to the water.

"Thanks." Dean gave him a pat on the shoulder then got up to grab his take out burger. He hadn't realized how hungry he actually was until he scarfed down his meal. All that worrying had worked up an appetite, but it only hit him after his concern was gone. Dean finished up his meal, tossed the garbage, and checked up on his brother. He had just finished his soup and was reaching for the Nyquil the older man had bought him. He popped the lid, peeled the sealer, poured the liquid into the cap, then tossed it back the same way he threw back whiskey. Dean cringed and made a disgusted sound as he watched. "What?" Sam asked innocently.

"Nothing," Dean shook his head.

"It's not that bad, wuss," Sam smirked.

"You just threw back that thing like it was nothing. There's something not mentally right with people who don't want to up chuck after taking medicine like that. Or at least make a 'blah' face." The younger man chuckled at his brother and rolled his eyes.

"I'm gonna try and get some sleep, you alright?"

Dean looked at him perplexed.

"You're coughing up a lung and look like you belong in a crappy B horror movie and you're asking me if I'm ok?"

"Thanks for sugar coating it," Sam shook his head. "But, yeah. Your blood pressure back to normal?"

"I'm still pissed," Dean started throwing his brother a glare "but yeah, I'm good." A flared temper usually led to an agitated and activated Mark, both brothers knew that.

"Alright, goodnight." He scooted himself down so that his head rested on his pillow and only seconds later, Dean could hear the sound of his brother trying to breath in his sleep. He finished up getting ready to turn in, then climbed into bed and turned off the light on the nightstand. Sleep found him a lot quicker than it had the previous night, and he too was out fast.

Dean woke up with another start. He lay in bed staring up at the ceiling in the dark. The dark? So he hadn't been sleeping long. The sound of someone retracting brought Dean back from his thoughts. He kicked off the covers and snatched up a new water bottle just as he heard it stop. A few seconds later the toilet flushed, a cough sounded, and the sink was on. Dean could hear a toothbrush being ran against teeth, a spit, water again, and then his brother re-emerged looking even more worn out and pale then before.

"I thought it was a cold," Dean replied handing Sam the bottle of water as he passed him. The taller man took it and made his way back to his bed.

"It is," he whispered laying himself back down.

"Last I checked a cold doesn't include praying to the porcelain Gods."

"I know. Something just must not have agreed with me."

"You mean like that nasty ass medicine you treated like a Jello shot? "

"No, something maybe I grabbed on my way over. It's fine Dean, just go back to sleep. Sorry I woke you." Sam pulled the sheet and comforter up over his shoulder and rolled over so that his back was facing his brother. Dean watched as his brother's giant body shook. Sam was definitely in no shape to be out, he needed to be home. Just within a few hours the older Winchester had seen a drastic decrease in his energy and appearance, not to mention in the way he sounded.

He returned to his own bed, listening to the weezy breaths that came from Sam followed by an occasional start of a cough. With a heavy sigh, he crept from his spot, grabbed his phone, and snuck into the bathroom. Outside would have been better but the rain still hadn't let up, if anything it seemed to be getting worse, and he wasn't interested in getting drenched. Dean scrolled through his phone until the bar rested on Cas in his contacts. He sat staring at it, then activated his number. It rang twice then the familiar gruff voice answered.

"Cas, I need you to do me a favor."

"Dean-"

"It's Sam, he's here and he's sick."

"I thought you said he was at the Bunker, that's why you needed me to get there as soon as possible."

"I know, he was. He followed me after I left. He's not good Cas, I know he's trying to be, but he's not. I need you to come get him."

"Of course," the angel sighed. "Where are you?"

"Merritt Island Florida."

"Florida?! That will take me some time Dean. I can't just teleport over there anymore."

"I know I know. But he can't stay here man. He needs to go home. Please just, make sure he gets to the Bunker and stays there," Dean whispered at the sound of his brother coughing.

"Yes, of course."

"Thanks Cas, call me when you're in town." With that Dean hung up and returned to his bed to try and get some rest He was going to need it. Once his best friend showed up to escort his little brother back to Kansas, all hell was going to break loose.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n: Sorry it's been so long, I was super busy with my Xmas story, my gift stories, and of ccourse just the holiday in general! Anyways, I'm back with the next chapter! There will probably be two more after this.**

 **Thank you so very much LilyBolt for always being there for me, for the reviews, and for being my friend. Thank you miXiZ for your friendship and support and reviews, and also to jojospn and guest for all of your reviews and support.**

 **Thank you to anyone who takes time to read, review, follow, and/or favorite.**

Ch5

The next morning, Dean awoke at the same time as the motel room door opened. Sam emerged holding a paper plate in his left hand as he tucked away the room key into his sweatshirt pocket with his right.

"Morning," he greeted hoarsely.

"What're you doing up?"

"Breakfast, thought you might be hungry when you woke up. Got you some pancakes, side of butter, syrup, and bacon. Sorry, there was only one piece left by the time I got down there. I practically had to arm wrestle an eight year old for it," Sam explained sheepishly as he handed his brother the plate of food. Dean eyed it then him.

"You probably only really had to turn and cough on them. How're you holding up?" He asked suspiciously. Sam frowned and shrugged as he sat on his own bed.

"Fine." The older man's eyes hardened as they met the younger's. "I mean I'm not great, but I'm ok." Dean picked up the plastic fork and began to butter his pancakes.

"Where's your breakfast?" He asked as he began to cut into his short stack.

"I uh, I had a piece of toast," he answered. "So, should we compare notes?"

"Yeah, you first."

"Well I learned that Shannon wasn't alone when she died. Turns out that she was sneaking off to meet up with a boy, Ryan Richards. had no idea, but apparently her sister is like Sherlock Holmes. She figured it out, but promised to keep it between them. Of course things changed when her niece was found dead."

"And have you talked with lover boy yet?"

"No not yet. Figured I would do that today after I got some rest, you know?" Dean nodded and stuffed his mouth with a fork full of pancakes. "What about you? Dig up anything at the morgue?"

"Uh no. Nothing. No signs as to why they died or how. I mean, we don't even know that this is our kind of gig."

"People are dropping dead and we have no clue as to why. No scratches, marks, puncture wounds, missing organs, nothing. That sounds like our kind of thing," Sam countered.

"Alright so all we know is that Shannon mysteriously died and she was having a randevu the day she kicked the bucket." Sam nodded in confirmation. "Great. Well, I guess that means the next step is to go talk with Romeo."

"Right, I'll get my suit," the younger man said as he got to his feet. A cough sprung from him and he quickly covered his mouth.

"No, I'll go. We need answers and a monster, you stay here and work your geek magic. Besides, you really think anyone is going to let you into their house looking and sounding like a cold and flu commercial?" Dean finished up his breakfast and then climbed from his bed to throw on his FBI suit while Sam got to work setting up his laptop at the little table. The older brother picked up the Dayquil and handed it to the younger man. "Take your nasty ass cold juice, drink lots of water, soups are on top of the microwave. Call me if you find anything, or need anything."

Sam watched his brother before clearing his throat. "Hey Dean? Thanks." The older Winchester looked over at him.

"For what?"

"I know you're mad that I'm not at the Bunker in bed resting, but thank you for letting me stay and help."

Dean gave a half hearted smirk.

"Have you seen the weather? Thank it," he teased.

"Be careful out there," Sam replied with his own grin.

"Thanks mom." With that, the older brother disappeared, closing the door behind him.

The weather was no better then it had been the previous day and Dean was now worried about his best friend. He wasn't sure how much experience the angel had had in driving in harsh weather. And Sam. He didn't seem much better, but with the exception of his voice almost completely gone, he didn't appear to be much worse either. Dean just hoped his health wouldn't drop more before he was returned to Kansas, or at all for that matter.

Dean pulled up to the address Sam had given him several minutes later, and once again was forced to face the rain. Maybe they should keep at least one umbrella in the car. His suit was still slightly damp from yesterday, and he wasn't sure how many more trips into this weather it could stand before it looked like he used it as a bathing suit. He couldn't wait to get out of it and into his nice dry heavier jacket.

Dean killed the engine, flung his door open, and as professional looking as possible, he hurried to the front door. This time when he knocked, the only thing he heard inside were footsteps. He sighed in relief at the lack of canine greetings as the door cracked open. The face of a young boy who couldn't be any older than twelve popped into view, his deep blue eyes staring up at Dean.

"Yeah?" He addressed him.

"Ryan Richards?"

"'S my brother," the boy answered.

"Is he home?"

"Is he in trouble?" Concern flickered in his eyes.

"I'm Special Agent Seger," Dean reported as he pulled out his fake badge and showed it to the boy. "I just have a few questions for him about the death of Shannon Turner." The boy nodded sadly.

"He's really shook up about that. Won't talk to anyone." Trying his best to keep himself patient, Dean tried to switch into a more Sam-like tactic.

"I know this must be tough for him, and I'm sorry for his loss. However this is important, it could help explain what happened and help me to prevent it from happening again." Dean may not be gifted with puppy dog eyes, his gift was more so charm with the ladies, but when he really tried, he could at times be convincing enough with the right person. The boy nodded again.

"Come in, just take off your shoes by the door and be quick. Mom will be back from the grocery store soon and she would be pissed if I let someone in." Dean wanted to say "finally," but instead kept his cool and thanked him, quickly letting himself inside out of the pouring rain. "I'll go get Ryan, hold on a sec."

Dean kicked off his shoes and by the time he had made himself at home on the couch, the boy returned with a rather cross looking older boy who could only be his brother. The resemblance was so uncanny that if it hadn't been for an obvious age gap, they could have been identical twin. With of course some difference. His eyes were the same deep blue as they looked over at Dean who popped up from the couch to take on a more professional look.

"Ryan?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I told you, FBI," his younger brother whispered.

"Wasn't talking to you Jacob, go to your room." Reluctantly the younger brother obeyed and left his brother alone with Dean. "Let me see your badge."

It's not uncommon for people to demand that Dean show him that he was what he said he was. Once again, he pulled it from his hidden pocket and displayed it for the boy. After a long moment of silence as the deep blue eyes searched the item, he spoke again. "What do y'a want?"

"To know what happened in the wetlands when you were out with Shannon Turner." The boys arms feel from his chest and his face turned white, as though he were back there again on that night. Dean stood a while waiting for an answer, but when he didn't get one, he pressed further. "Did you see anything? Did the air get colder? Anything?" Ryan continued to stare and despite wanting to slap him across the face to bring him back, Dean didn't. Whatever it was, it was something that terrified him enough to go from snarky attitude, to silent and vacant.

"I-I didn't-I don't know."

"You don't know? You don't know what?"

"I only saw..." The boys deep blue eyes grew darker and more distant as they stared ahead of him. Dean imagined that that was a similar look he use to get when he would be overcome with memories of being in Purgatory.

"HEY!" He yelled, causing Ryan to jump and shake his head. "Did you see anything?"

"I didn't get a clear look. I-I just saw...scales. Big scales."

"Like an alligator maybe?"

"No, I've seen lots of gators and this ain't one. It was...huge!"

"It was huge, but you didn't see anything but scales? What about its eyes? Hey! Focus Ryan," Dean shouted snapping his fingers in front of the boy's eyes as they started to go for miles again. "Were they animalistic? What color?"

The boy shook his head.

"Didn't see. Just scales." Ryan could only repeat about scales, nothing more, and with Dean growing increasingly frustrated and the Mark once again throbbing and itching on his skin, he decided to call it quits. He wasn't getting anything more out of this guy, he just had to hope Sam had worked his geek magic and found something back at the motel room. Dean thanked Ryan for his time, only just to keep up the FBI charade, handed him his card in case he could think of anything else, and excused himself from the house.

Back in the Impala, Dean began to search his pockets for his phone, thinking it may be a good idea to check and see if his brother had called. When they came up empty, he realized he must have left it in the room with Sam. Cussing under his breath, Dean sped off back to the motel.

XXX

Sam was starting to doze when he heard a phone go off. He grabbed for his cell, only to find it wasn't ringing. Confused, Sam looked over on Dean's bed and saw his brother's phone lit up and vibrating. The name Cas was displayed on the screen as Sam answered the call.

"Cas?"

"Dean! I seem to be having some vehicular complications. It's going to take me longer than I thought to get to Florida."

"It's Sam." The other end of the line went silent. "Hello? Cas?"

"Disregard this message." With that the call dropped. Sam looked at the phone then returned to his spot at the table. It didn't take long for him to process what the call from Dean's best friend had meant. Sam wasn't stupid. Anger swirled inside of Sam's belly as he sat staring ahead of him, clenching his jaw and shaking his head.

XXX

"Hey," Dean called out as he entered the room. Sam didn't look up from the screen but grunted at him. "So, you find out anything?"

"Yeah as a matter a fact I did. Cas called, he's having car troubles and he's going to be late getting here." Sam's hazel glare burned into his brother.

"Sam-"

"I can't believe you! You called Cas to come get me, even after everything."

"You're sick."

"Broken record Dean," Sam growled.

"Yeah well, if you would have just listened to me in the first damn place, you wouldn't have to hear it." It fell silent as Sam sat glaring at his brother who in return shrugged off his soaking suit jacket.

"I'm not going."

Dean sighed and threw his head back closing his eyes before turning to glare at Sam.

"I'm not fighting with you about this anymore," he said calmly. He turned his attention to the mini fridge where he pulled out a bottle of El Sol, popped off the lid, and took a drink. "What did you find out?" He asked as though he wasn't being stabbed by his brother's eyes. Sam huffed and shook his head, slamming his laptop shut. "Don't be a bitch Sam," Dean replied still ignoring his brother's death stare and taking another sip.

"Stop being a dick, Dean."

"Oh, that's mature," he scoffed.

"Yeah well, you aren't yourself. Or practical." Dean opened his mouth to rebutle, but Sam didn't give him a chance say anything. "This thing is killing people Dean. Killing them so fast that I don't think they even see it coming. They're just dropping like flies and no one knows why. In what part of your brain does it make sense for you to just go off and hunt this thing alone and with no idea on how to kill it?" Sam's eyes grew soft and began to mist as his voice grew calmer. "I don't know what I would do if you-" He stopped and swallowed, trying to keep back tears and his voice from shaking. They sat in silence for a bit, Dean not pushing Sam or making any remarks and Sam still too lost in his tragic thoughts and memories of the last time his brother had gone off to fight something strong on his own. "You aren't going out there alone, Dean. It's as simple as that." Sam reached over to hand Dean his cell that had been left behind earlier. "Now, call Cas." His voice, although still hoarse from being sick, was surprisingly strong.

"Sam-"

"Call Cas, or I will."

Dean sat staring at Sam. What good was it to continue to argue? He knew his little brother was pig headed, he knew that no matter what he did, he would find his way to Dean again. Not to mention Cas could be a bit of a push over, so even if he was able to come get Sam, since he no longer had his full angel powers, he knew Sam could overthrow him. And he also knew that he would.

Reluctantly, Dean scrolled through the names until he selected the angel's. It rang twice, then Sam heard the gravely voice muffled on his brother's phone.

"Hey Cas, I hear you're having some car trouble," Dean started casually. Sam couldn't make out what the angel was saying exactly, but it sounded panicked. "Yeah, yeah-I know he knows Cas, that's actually why I'm calling you." Dean looked over at Sam in one last attempt to convince him to change his mind. His brother returned his look with a stern glare and a slight head nod as to say 'go on, tell him.' The older brother sighed and rolled his eyes. "Look, just worry about your car, don't worry about coming for Sam. Alright?" More rather agitated muffled words were said. "I know, I know-Cas! I know! Just, cool your jets huh?" This time the words sounded confused. "No I know you don't have any jets, I just-relax, ok? Just don't worry about Sam or coming to Florida. Focus on you right now, ok?" Softer this time. "Ok, good. Thanks again." With that Dean ended the call. Sam nodded in approval.

"Alright, now we can focus on the case. What did you find-" his sentence was interrupted as a cough sprung from him. He didn't try to hide it this time, but covered his mouth with his arm. "Sorry," he said clearing his throat. Dean gave him a look of instant regret for having called the angel off. "It's alright, just a cough." Sam reassured him when he noticed his brother's look. "What did you find out at the Richards house?"

"Scales."

Sam looked at his brother as though there was more to be said. When there wasn't, he spoke.

"Scales? As in lizard scales? Alligator scales? Snake scales?"

"Huge scales," Dean quoted.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

The younger brother frowned. "Huh."

"Yeah, big help. Definitely worth the run around in the rain," the older man said sarcastically.

"Scales. Alright, I'll see what I can come up with."

"So goose egg for you too so far?" Sam nodded. "Wonderful."

Hours ticked by before Sam exclaimed, clapping his hands. Dean who had been half asleep on his bed watching Western movie reruns bolted up with a shout of his own.

"What?! What?!" He asked turning to look at his brother. A proud smile was on Sam's still too pale face. "You find something? Or was it just really good porn?"

"I have a possibility."

"A possibility?"

"I didn't think they were real, but all the symptoms and the lack of description, makes perfect sense."

"What?!" Dean repeated.

"Did you pack Dad's journal?"

"Of course I did. Why?"

Is there anything in it about Basilisks?"

 **A/n: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/n: I'm so sorry it's been so long, thank you to everyone who's still interested in this story.**

 **Thank you to all followers, LilyBolt, miXiZ, and AFanGirlof5sos for your reviews! As well as to anyone who reads, reviews, favorites, and/or follows.**

CH6

"Basilisk? Like the lizard?" Dean asked screwing up his face.

"Basilisk like the giant reptilian creature deemed to be 'king of the serpents,' by the Greek. These things can kill just by you looking into their eyes!" Sam said enthusiastically as he began to flip through the pages of their father's journal.

"Your geek is showing," the older brother countered.

"It all makes perfect sense!" Sam continued, ignoring his brother's jab at him. "Ryan only saw its scales, but Shannon must have looked into the basilisk's eyes!" The younger man was suddenly sent into a coughing fit.

"Ok, alright, just slow down," Dean said nervously. "Don't get too excited, you'll make yourself sick. Well, sicker. How do we kill this thing?"

"Well, like I said, I thought these things were fake, so..." Sam admitted.

"So you don't know?"

"Right. But uh, legend has it that the crow of a rooster can kill it," the younger brother replied biting his lower lip and peering over at Dean.

"The crow of a rooster?"

Sam nodded at him. The older man slapped a hand to his face. "Wonderful. Well, it just so happens that I'm fresh out of roosters because I carry so many of those with me on a hunt."

"Well, there is one other way."

"What's that, the moo of a cow?" Dean retorted.

"A mirror."

"A mirror?"

"Yeah, if it sees itself in a mirror, that can kill it too."

"According to the legend," Dean said. Sam nodded.

"According to the legend."

The older man sighed and rubbed at his eyes.

"Marvelous. Why can't they just be killed with iron or silver like a normal monster?"

"Because, that would be too easy," the younger man answered with a tired smile.

"Alright, let's hunt ourselves a king of snakes," the older brother said getting up. He walked over to the green duffel bag where their weapons were and began to dig through it.

"What're you doing?"

"I know only a rooster or a mirror can kill the son of a bitch, but bullets gotta do something." Sam got up from his spot to stand by Dean.

"No, you can't bring anything, except a mirror," Sam instructed.

"What? Why?"

"Because if they touch whatever you're holding or touch you at all, you'll die," the younger man reported sheepishly, reminding Dean of a much younger Sammy.

"Fan-fucking-tastic."

"Yeah."

"Anything else I need to know about this thing? Can it kill with bad breath?" Dean replied sarcastically.

"Well," Sam started, meeting his apologetic hazel eyes with his brother's irritated green.

"You've gotta be kidding me?!"

"Legend has it they can breath fire or that their breath is toxic. It can kill instantly. Also it uh, is said that it can kill with its voice " The older hunter shook his head.

"Of course it can," he said under his breath. "Alright does 'legend say' where Godzilla likes to shack up? Let me guess, in a place where there are plenty of places to spy on you while staying as hidden as massive snake can."

"Yeah, that Sanctuary makes perfect sense," Sam confirmed. "What I don't get, is why it's here in the States. I mean these things were found in Europe, or at least, that's what I thought."

Dean deadpanned making Sam frown.

"What?"

"You can stop geeking out about an indestructible giant snake anytime now," the older hunter replied.

"I'll go grab the mirror, meet you in the car," Sam said. "Remember, don't bring anything," Dean turned and started towards the motel door. "I'm serious," the younger brother warned.

"Yeah yeah, hurry up." With that Dean was gone and Sam made his way into the motel bathroom, where he removed the small rectangular mirror.

Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets. Sam hurried to the car where Dean was waiting for him with the engine running. Sam gently rested the mirror in the back on the seat, then climbed into the Impala, closing the door behind him. When he realized they weren't going anywhere, he turned to face his brother. The older man was looking over at him with a look Sam knew only too well.

"I'll be fine Dean," he reassured him. Dean opened his mouth to retort, but instead closed it, pulled the car out from her spot in the parking lot, and gunned off to the Sanctuary.

XXX

By the time the Winchesters had arrived, the storm had grown. Lightening lit up the sky followed by a loud rumble while the rain only continued to pour from the dark clouds above. The moon was hidden almost completely from sight, causing the Sanctuary and all around it to be submerged in shadow. Within minutes of the brothers climbing out of the car, they both looked as though had just come back from being in a pool. Rain soaked through all four layers from their jackets through to their T-shirts as well as their jeans. Not even their socks or shoes were dry.

Sam pulled the mirror from its spot in the back, while Dean popped the trunk and started to dig through it.

"Dean, what're you doing?" The younger brother asked.

"Just grabbing a flashlight, relax." Sam marched over and snatched the item from his brother's hand, tossed it back in the trunk, and slammed it close.

"Were you listening to me at all back at the motel?"

"Yeah Sam I heard you, but there's no way I'm going to be able to see a damn thing in there," Dean responded.

"Your eyes will adjust, come on." Sam headed off down the path, a grumbling Dean not far behind him. The hunters made their way along the muddy path deeper into the Sanctuary until they were finally sheltered slightly by the trees. Every now and then, a crack of lightening would lit the brothers' trail temporarily blinding them and making their sight have to readjust once again to the dark.

"This is ridiculous," Dean said shortly.

"What now?"

"Us trumping through the mud going after some monster that no one seems to know squat about that can literally kill with its eyes, all the while drenched to the bone and you're sick!" Sam rolled his eyes but continued to push through the mud, the sooner they killed this thing, the sooner he could put his brother's mind at ease and try to tackle this cold.

As they moved, both hunters kept their sense heightened to any sight or sound of something out there. The only sound they heard however was their boots squishing through the mud, the roll of thunder, the rain wrapping on the leaves, and an occasional cough from Sam. As they continued to make their way through the Wetlands, Sam's pace began to slow down slightly as his energy started to fade. Normally it would be no trouble hiking through the mud in the rain, hell, he loved to go on long walks or for a jog, but with the cold medicine wearing off and the added energy and strength it took to hold the mirror, it was becoming more of a task.

"Hey," Dean placed his hand on his brother's shoulder signaling for Sam to stop. He turned to look wearily at the older man. "I got it Sammy." The younger Winchester simply nodded, allowing his brother to remove the weight of the mirror from him. Before they could commence their walk however, the sound of something moving through the grass caught both of their attentions. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw something large slide by. A flash of lightening illuminated the object, giving the older hunter a glimpse of scales.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/n: Sorry it took me so long to get this out. This is the second to last chapter of "Under the Weather."**

 **Thank you to all those who have and those who continue to read, review, follow, and/or favorite. A special thank you to Val for your recent review and to LilyBolt and miXiZ for yours and your help and faith in me.**

CH7

"Don't. Look," Sam breathed.

Dean had been listening to his brother when he had been talking about the basilisk, and it sounded difficult to beat when he rattled it off then, but it wasn't until now that he truly understood how impossible this hunt was. How were they suppose to kill something, that they can't even look at? Thinking in retrospect, they probably should have taken two mirrors.

Both brothers stood completely still as the sound of the monster slithering through the grass continued.

"We can't just stand here," Dean whispered out the side of his mouth.

"Just, aim the mirror at it," Sam murmured.

"How, I can't look-" Before Dean had a chance to finish his sentence, the mirror he had been holding was knocked from his grip by a blur of scales and shattered. The older hunter jumped out of the way and dropped to the ground as shards of glass rained down on him. He quickly ducked and covered his head, shielding it the best he could.

"DEAN!"

Sam moved to check on his brother, but was stopped by a thud that shook the ground near by him, causing him to flail unstable on his feet and drop to his hands and knees. With no mirror, his mind began to race. Adrenaline had kicked in and the strength that had been dwindling only seconds ago, was now back with full force. With his options minimal and their situation reaching fatal, Sam took off running further into the wetlands. As he had hoped, he was pursued by the sound of something large moving swiftly behind him.

"SAM!"

Rain pelted the younger hunter's face as he dashed down the trail, trying to keep to it the best he could. Somewhere close by, a flash of lightening lit up the sky followed by a deep bellow of thunder. All the while he ran, Sam continued to work through the best plan B that he could think of. Dean was safe, for now, which was one problem rectified. Now it was time to solve a much bigger issue at hand. Killing the impossible. Something had to work. Maybe Dean could make it back to the car and figure something out. Or maybe he could somehow acquire another mirror. If he hadn't been running for his life, Sam would have shook his head at even thinking it was a possibility. Dean would never leave him to fight anything alone, especially not something as intense as a basilisk. And as far as the closest available mirror, that would be the Impala's rearview and side mirrors. The likilness of him making it back to the car without another complication arising was far to low. As it was, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep running. Already his legs were starting to shake from forcing them to move.

He kept his eyes in front of him, only chancing a look down to make sure he didn't trip over anything as he hurried along. As he pressed on deeper within the Sanctuary, the trail began to shrink until it ceased altogether. Sam's feet were no longer pounding through the mud, but were sloshing through deep puddles in the grass until finally he was stopped. His shoes had become completely submerged in the thick dark mud that under the pressure of Sam's weight, had him glued to the spot, causing him to lose his balance and plummet to the mud and hitting it with a grunt and a squish. He kept himself low and still, hoping that maybe it hadn't seen him fall and couldn't see him now.

"Hey!" Sam hadn't realized his eyes were closed until he opened them and wheeled his head around towards the shout.

There was a thud and the shadow of something large coming straight at his brother, but Dean hustled out of the way before it made contact. Sam could feel his heart pounding against his chest as it made another lunge at his sibling. Once again, he dodged it. The third time however, it's scal collided with the hunter and he was thrown to the ground.

"DEAN!"

When his brother didn't respond and continued to lay still, Sam turned his attention back to the scales of the creature. With his sibling down for the count, but hopefully not the final count, he could hear the basilisk approaching him.

It was possible that the legends had been wrong and something like a stab to the heart or the brain could bring the beast down, but he had been adamant about not bringing anything on the hunt for their safety, which sounded odd even to him. Think Sam think, this creature is centuries old and this is the 21st century...right, the 21st century! The younger hunter quickly pulled out his phone, activated the camera on it, and flipped it so that he could see himself on the screen. As fast as he could, he spun around onto his side in the mud and stretched his shaking arm up while shielding his eyes with his other one, and aimed his phone towards the basilisk. The creature let out a sound that reassembled a bird screeching more than it did any kind of monster, let alone a reptile. Sam heard a loud thud only inches from where he was laying and felt the ground beneath him shake. The younger man lowered his arm slowly, pulled himself free of the mud trap, and scurried over to his unconscious brother.

"Dean? Dean?" He dropped to his knees, pulled his sibling's face from mud, and checked his pulse. It was slow, but there. "Dean?!" Sam slapped his cheek lightly at first, but when nothing happened, he smacked him harder. Dean groaned and slowly opened his eyes. "Dean! Oh thank God!"

"D'd chu k'llt?" The elder brother slurred. It was too dark to see any injuries on him, but he was certain he had some. Sam saw his brother's head turn in the direction where the monster was and he quickly grabbed Dean's face in his mud soaked hands, redirecting his attention him.

"Don't look!" He ordered. The beast hadn't moved since the fall, but the younger hunter wasn't interested in taking any chances. Not to mention he wasn't completely certain if there was a period of time after its death where someone could still drop dead themselves if they looked into it's eyes. He would check once he made sure his brother was alright. "I got'em."

"H'w?"

"Camera on my phone."

"N'ce job S'mmy," he responded with a dazed grin. "B't rekless, b't sm'rt."

"Are you alright?" The younger man fretted. "You're slurring."

"M, ok," Dean mumbled as Sam helped pull him into sitting position. He swayed slightly and the younger brother grabbed a hold of his sibling's shoulder to steady him. "Wh't bu't yu?"

"I'm fine. We gotta go Dean," Sam's voice came out weak and he could feel his energy draining from his body.

"Y'u shwed legnd, h'h?"

"Yeah, guess I did show..." Sam's eyes rolled in the back of his head and he collapsed in the mud next to his brother.

"S'm!" Dean crawled over and shook him. "S'm?! S'mmy!" He placed a hand on the younger man's forehead and his eyes grew wide. "Fck," he cussed. Great. His brother was passed out with what felt like a dangerously high temperature and gaging by his own slurred speech and fuzzy eyes, he himself likely had a concussion. A wave of nausea hit him and he fought the urge to vomit, throwing the back of his wrist to his mouth. Why did they have to be deep in a foliaged area in the middle of a storm and far away from the Impala? Knowing that this time, there would be no way he could carry his brother back to the safety of the Chevy, he began to scoop up mud and smear it on Sam's face. The rain in Florida wasn't cold like it was in the west coast. It was more like a luke warm shower which would later make you feel damp and sticky. Sam needed cold to help with bringing down his fever and Dean knew that neither the water that drummed down on them from the sky, nor the body of water close by, would be anywhere near as cold as he needed it to be. All he could hope for was that the mud mask he had created for his sibling would at least keep him alive until Dean could get him back to the motel and taken care of properly. It wasn't his best method but he was desperate and well, mud worked for pigs when they were hot, it was worth a try.

The need to sleep suddenly nagged at the elder brother and his eyes grew heavy. It wasn't his first concussion, not by a long shot. Dean knew that the worse thing he could do would be to fall asleep, of course that's not to say that he hasn't before. He knew how dangerous it was, he also knew that sometimes it was a losing battle to fight it. It wasn't uncommon, but there was a major difference in his current scenario, Sam was in a serious condition himself. Nine times out of ten, Sam was there to keep him awake and alive, or at least he was both of those things himself. Unable to fight the urge, Dean allowed himself to sink to the mud next to his brother and the last thing he heard was another roll of thunder before he lost consciousness.


	8. Chapter 8

TV Shows » Supernatural » Under the Weather

 **A/n: Alright everyone, here it is, the end. Thank you so much for reading "Under the Weather." I hope you have enjoyed it.**

 **Thank you to all my followers as well as those who read, review and/or favorite this. Also, thank you to jojospn, Guest, miXiZ, and LilyBolt.**

CH8

A loud thumping sound interrupted the quiet that had fallen around Dean followed by another less continuous sound. Words were being said. Well, word, name actually. He didn't move to respond to it, maybe if he just ignored it the beckoning would stop. It only got louder and now he felt as though his body was being moved around in an annoyingly repetitive gesture while his name was being shouted. His name! Someone was trying to reach him. It was still too muffled for Dean to connect the name with the voice, but he knew that he knew them. As he continued to be shaken around like a rag doll, the voice became clearer. It was far too deep to be his little brother's. Sammy!

Dean's eyes flew open as the memory of Sam passed out came back to him. Stay awake, he had to stay awake. His brother needed him.

"Dean, there you are. I was starting to think you weren't going to make it." It was still too dark for the older hunter to see much of anything, but he didn't need to see the man to know who it was.

"S'ts bu't tme y'u sh'wed up. C'lld y'u l'k h'urs go'. S'mmy n'ds y'u."

"You have a concussion," the angel stated. To an untrained ear, his words would sound emotionless, only factual, but Dean had been around his friend long enough to detect the concern that touched his voice.

"'M f'ne. Jus h'lp S'm."

"Dean," Cas started apologetically. "I can't help your brother. I imagine with your head injury that you may have forgot that I no longer have the ability to heal. Or teleport."

"Yah C's, I kn'w," Dean snapped pushing himself up out of the mud.

"You should go slow," the angel warned.

"Yah yah," Dean waved a hand at his friend and the movement sent him spinning. His hand he had been flailing landed back into the mud and he leaned over away from himself just as his stomach emptied. Once he was done, he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his mud soaked jacket and glared up at his friend. "Littl' h'lp." He held out his hand towards Castiel who took it and as slowly as he could, pulled Dean up. The elder brother had a tight grip on the angel's hand and leaned up against him slightly, trying to find his balance and keep himself from spinning. "Alr'ght," he said patting his friend's shoulder in thanks, "n'w Sammy."

"I couldn't wake him," Castiel admitted.

"W'r g'nna hav t' carry h'm. Y'u g't ne s'de and 'll get the 'ther." Dean's speech although improved since the angel woke him, was still a sign that the older man wasn't in any shape to help move another full grown man.

"Dean, this isn't wise. You're in no condition for this."

"I can't leave him here and y'u can't telep'rt. I d'nt have a ch'ice." Castiel sighed in defeat and positioned himself so that he could keep himself anchored to the ground as he grabbed onto Sam's left arm. Dean did the same with his right, though teetered a bit. "Alright 'n three. 'Ne, tw', three!" Both of them struggled to lift the 6'4 unconscious man up off the ground. After a few tries, and Cas having to help pull Dean back to his feet most of them, they managed. "That wasn't s' bad," Dean replied with a weary grin. "Alright, let's get Sammy h'me."

It was slow going between Dean still not being strong enough to really support the extra weight of his brother as well as trying to stand without swaying and neither the angel nor the injured hunter knowing exactly where they were or where to go, but they made it. Of course along the way they had had to readjust and get a better hold on Sam, and Dean had had to stop and regain his balance or vomit, but finally the body of the sleek black Impala came into view. Dean got to work at fishing in his pocket for his keys while they directed Sam towards the car. With the door unlocked and open, they worked together at gently placing the giant man into the passenger seat. The older brother hooked the seatbelt and positioned the unconscious hunter so that he didn't slide into an uncomfortable position before closing the door and turning back towards Cas.

"Alright, meet y'u at the h'tel." As he turned to head over to the driver's side, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"No. You've done far more than you should have with a concussion. I'll drive."

"I d'n't even let Sammy drive her that 'ften, why w'uld I let y'u?" He frowned.

"Because you don't have a choice. You have a head injury and can barely speak or walk and Sam is unconscious and close to death. Now, get in." Dean stared at his friend, surprised by the demand that filled his words. He wasn't asking him, he was telling him. The older Hunter obeyed and climbed into the back seat. For the first few moments, he kept a close fuzzy fix on his friend and how he maneuvered the Chevy, but soon his eyelids drooped and he was lost to sleep once again.

The jerk of the car stopping brought Dean back and this time, he regained awareness quicker and without slurring.

"Alright, let's get him up to the room." The older brother threw himself out of the Impala, pressing himself against it as the world spun again. Too fast, definitely too fast. Castiel came around to the passenger side and together they worked on getting Sam up and out. Dean tried to hurry his sibling up the stairs the best he could, which had felt to him like it was only two notches faster than a snail's pace. Finally they reached the top and leaned the giant man against the wall while the older man fought to open the motel door. Once inside, they laid him on the bed and Dean stood hunched over both arms outstretched and pushing on the mattress as he tried to steady himself.

"Cas, take that bucket there and go fill it with ice," Dean ordered. The angel didn't lose anytime in collecting the container that had been mentioned and rushing out. The older brother pushed himself off and swayed to the bathroom where he got to work cranking the knob labeled cold in the bathtub. Water shot out of the faucet and he quickly clogged the drain so that the it would begin to fill up. His friend returned and began to dump in the ice he had requested. Another trip later, the ice cold water was ready. With difficulty, they once again grabbed Sam and gently rested him in tub.

Dean watched nervously as his brother remained unresponsive and the once clear fresh water that surrounded Sam turned a murky brown from all the mud. When there was still no response from the younger man, Dean pushed his brother's head down under the water. A few seconds later, he could feel his sibling trying to fight back and he released him, allowing Sam to re-emerge. The younger man gasped and launched his upper body up and out of the water, blinking and shivering as he stared from his brother to the angel.

"Finally," Dean sighed in relief. "Cas on the nightstand there should be a bottle of medicine that's purple, Sam needs that." Castiel nodded and left. With the angel gone, the elder brother brought his full attention to his sibling. "What the hell were you thinking back there?" Dean snapped.

"What?"

"When you took off with that thing chasing you. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking we were screwed," Sam responded moving to climb out of the ice water. He was pushed back by his brother's hand.

"Oh no, you're staying in there until I take your temperature."

"Dean," Sam rolled his eyes.

"Don't 'Dean' me," the elder brother raised his voice. "I let you go on this suicide mission and you nearly died out there! I told you something bad would happen if you tagged along in your condition and as usual, I was right." His voice was harsh but as he glared into his brother's hazel eyes, the younger man could see that it wasn't just anger that inhabited them. "That was stupid Sam. Stupid on your part and stupid on mine."

"No, it wasn't," his words were soft and hoarse. "It was smart. If I hadn't been out there with you, YOU would have died. What I did worked and we both came out alive."

"Barely," Dean retorted.

"But we did. Ok yeah it was a close call, but we still made it."

"Here," Castiel rejoined the brothers, handing Dean the bottle he asked for.

"You're taking this, you're taking your temperature, you're getting into clean dry clothes, and you're getting into bed." The angel looked from one Winchester to the other. Sam pulled himself out of the tub, grabbed a towel, snatched up the Nyquil his brother had been holding, and left the bathroom. Dean rubbed a tired hand over his face and sighed.

"You should get some sleep Dean," his friend coaxed.

"Not until Sammy-"

"Sam's a grown man, he can take care of himself." The older brother glared at his friend and then rolled his eyes. He had a point, Dean knew that and he also knew that he had been saying he would let up on Mother-Henning his little brother for years now, but old habits die hard. Sam would be sixty and he would still be watching over him, that is, if either of them were still alive.

With his brother vertical and vocal, Dean could feel the collision with the Basilisk's tail. His face didn't look that bad, just a cut above his hairline and mud. His hands however had little red cuts from when glass had fallen over him, but again nothing he needed to worry about. His pupils did look a bit dialated which was to be expected with a concussion and he could feel his muscles screaming at him in pain, but he'd have to manage for now. He washed his hands and face, dried off, then rejoined everyone.

As Dean entered the motel room, there was a loud beep and he watched Sam pull the thermometer from his mouth. The younger man sighed and tossed it on the nightstand, yanked out a pair of sweats and a dry t-shirt, and made for the bathroom; slamming the door behind him as he did. The elder brother walked over to pick up the thrown thermometer and pressed the button to activate it. It complied with a beep and displayed in black line numbers 101.5. Dean cussed and returned it to the table, then turned back to the angel.

"Thanks for the help Cas," he replied readying his clothes so that he could change once Sam was done.

"Of course Dean. I have a favor I have to ask of you now however."

"Say the word."

"I'm going to need a lift back to retrieve my car from the Sanctuary. Well it's not mine, the mechanic who's working on mine let me borrow his."

The older man raised his eyebrows and whistled.

"Wow, that was nice of him. You got it Cas, first thing in the morning Sammy and I will take you." The angel grinned and nodded.

"Thank you." The corners of his lips turned down as he brought his blue eyes to fall on the bathroom door. "How is he?"

"He's pissed, but he's alive and that's all that matters," Dean reported. "Temperatures still high."

"I felt his forehead when I first found you guys, it was bad Dean."

"Yeah well don't worry. I let him try it his way and that didn't turn out so great, but we're doing things my way now. As soon as we drop you off tomorrow morning, we're going back to the Bunker and Sammy isn't leaving it until he's right as rain. Oh yeah, speaking of which," Dean pulled out his soaked leather wallet and handed his friend a card. "Go get yourself a room for the night." Castiel shook his head.

"Thank you but that's not necessary Dean. I may not have my powers but I'm not human either. Don't forget I still have another angel's grace, even if it's pretty well tapped out now." Dean replaced the card in his wallet and tossed it on the little table.

"Speaking of, how're you doin'?" He asked crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm alright." Never had Dean believed he would be talking with an angel, let alone having one as his best friend, so to have one actually learn to adopt his behavior and outlooks was something unheard of. Castiel was most certainly not alright, but like his teacher, it was his way of trying to avoid the subject. Just then, the bathroom door opened and Sam reappeared wearing his night attire. He didn't say anything as he took the waded up clothes he was holding and laid them out on the chairs to dry. His face was still pale even as he made sharp movements to show his brother he was still angry. Dean now occupied the vacant bathroom and began to change into his own sweats and t-shirt.

Castiel watched the younger Winchester quietly.

"How are you Sam?" He finally asked. Sure he had been sent to rescue Dean from Hell, but over the course of time, the angel had built a friendship with his little brother as well.

"I'm fine Cas. You?"

"I'm alright. I know you're angry at your brother, but he's just concerned about you."

"When isn't he?" It was a rhetorical question and thankfully for Sam, Castiel seemed to have finally caught on to what sarcasm is. Yet another thing he had learned from the brothers. "I get he's concerned, but I'm thirty-two and he's always concerned. Besides, I think it may be something else," Sam lowered his voice as his eyes grew worried.

"You think it's the Mark of Cain."

The younger brother nodded in confirmation. "He's been walking on eggshells around us ever since the slaughter," he whispered.

"He's worried he'll do it again."

"He's worried he'll do it to us," Sam corrected the angel.

"Dean's not wrong to think that Sam, the Mark of Cain is extremely powerful. Although your brother is strong and a fighter, it's using those two things and turning them against him. I imagine it's only a matter of time before his emotions are heightened by the Mark and twisted into anger. It would seem that it's already starting. Look what he did to Metatron."

"We have to do something Cas. I can't just stand idly by and watch that damn thing consume my brother."

The bathroom door opened and Dean padded out, eyeing the angel as he approached his bed.

"Cas, you don't have to go home but you can't stay here. I'm hitting the sack," he brought his green eyes to meet his brother's. "And so are you." Sam gave the angel one last look before shuffling over to his bed and climbing under the covers. "Thanks for all your help man, you sure you don't want a room for the night?"

His friend shook his head.

"No, it would only be a waste. I'll see you in the morning. Good night Dean, Sam."

"Night Cas."

"Bye Cas."

With the angel gone, Sam rolled so that his back was facing his brother and closed his eyes. In the bed parallel to his, Dean shut off the light and collapsed onto his own mattress which squeaked at the weight. The room was silent with only the sound of the rain and an occasional roar of thunder.

The next morning, both brothers got up early and packed their bags. Dean's sight had improved though he still hurt, and Sam still appeared pale and had outbursts of snot and mucus. Once Castiel showed up, they checked out and took off back to the Sanctuary where the angel's borrowed car was parked.

"Thank you again," he said unhooking his seatbelt.

"Here, take this," Dean replied passing his friend the same card he had the previous night. "You got lucky the guy let you borrow the car last night, you're not gonna be as lucky with the bill."

The angel opened his mouth to reject the offer, but instead closed it.

"Thank you Dean."

"Don't thank me, thank...who's ever card that is." Castiel grinned.

"Wait, Cas," Sam said, turning around in the passenger seat to see him. "How did you know where we were last night?"

"Dean called me and told me." The angel stepped out of the car and closed the door. Both brothers waved and then Dean accelerated out of sight.

"How you feelin'?" The elder brother asked keeping his eyes on the road ahead. It took a bit longer then he would have liked, but finally Sam answered.

"Bout the same," he sighed.

"Well, we'll remedy that soon," Dean promised. The car fell silent with the exception of the rain tapping on the car and the rhythmic screech of the windshield wipers. Much to his dismay, it hadn't let up any. "Thank you."

The words seemed to come out of nowhere to the younger Winchester and for a split second, he thought he had imagined them. He turned his hazel gaze to his brother who's own was still fixed on the road in front of him with no indicator he had said anything.

"What?" Sam asked as a cough tickled his throat. A pause, then the older man cleared his own.

"Thank you."

"For?"

Dean's jade eyes turned from where he was going to fall on a baffled Sam.

"You were right," he responded simply.

"Care to elaborate?" The elder brother licked his lips and gave an embarrassed eye roll.

"What you did was smart. Had you just stayed home like I wanted you to, the outcome may have turned out different. Worse." The younger man threw a glance out the front window before returning it to his company. "And you're right that I'm afraid of what I might do to you, or Cas," Dean's voice broke and he turned his attention back on his driving not willing to meet his brother's eyes as he confessed. "I'm scared Sam, I'm scared that in the long run, this thing is going to be too much for me and no matter how hard I try, I won't be able to fight it. Every night I'm reminded of what I did. I can see them laying scattered and gory all over the floor and I can see my hand gripping the blade drenched in their blood." His face twisted in disgust at the memory. "I can still hear them screaming and see that disappointed look on your face and all that brought back for me was a reminder of what happened all those years ago." Dean didn't have to elaborate on what he meant this time. Sam would never forget when his seemingly thick skinned big brother broke down and shared with him his time in Hell. It haunted him for years, it still did and as much as the younger sibling wish it would some day evaporate into the past, he knew it never would. "I have it in me, Sammy," he continued, pulling Sam out of his thoughts. "I can take lives without blinking an eye. Have been since I was about six. I can't take any chances of me snapping one day and killing-" he trailed off.

"I'm not disappointed in you Dean. I never was, nor have I ever been. Why do you think I've looked up to you since I was a toddler?"

"Well it's not like you had anyone else," he countered.

"It's more than that Dean. You're a fighter, you always have been. You always fight for me and I may not say it all the time, but I appreciate it. But you need to fight for you." Dean glanced back over at his brother, this time he was wearing the baffled look. "You can beat this Dean, you're strong enough and even though you don't think you are, you're smart. And I'm not leaving you to fight this on your own, so you can just get that out of your head. Neither is Cas. We took out a creature that I didn't even think existed and is said by Legend to be damn near impossible to kill." Sam shrugged and a tired yet sincere grin touched his lips. "I kinda think the odds are in our favor." Dean scoffed but Sam saw in his eyes the drive that he had been so accustomed to all his life.

"Always a glass half full with you isn't it Bitch?" The older brother teased.

"Always Jerk."

 **\- Fin -**

 **A/n: I'm excited to announce that I will soon be starting to post an AU story, that has been a work in progress, titled "He's My Brother." I'm going to try and get a schedule for that one so hopefully I can update it regularly.**

 **Thanks again for reading!**


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